Dream vs Reality
by Bluerose146
Summary: REWRITTEN BY A DIFFERENT PERSON! OC girls' tennis team. Summary: There's a difference between dreams and realities. Like the moment you wake up and realize that your happy ending is just a dream. Or when you close you eyes, then reopen them, the same police man is staring at you expectantly, waiting for you to answer his question. There's a difference. A big difference.


Author's Note: Hey, everyone! So...I'm sure you've read the summary before you clicked/tapped the story (: Some of you might have read Bluerose146's Dream vs. Reality, some of you might not have. She's my (younger) sister, and I'm rewriting the story for her on her account. I'm not even on episode 100 yet, so the characters might not be _too_ in character (I tried, bro, okay? I tried). Please don't hesitate to tell me if they're not in character. I'm not going to push that 'it's my first time writing Prince of Tennis fanfiction' shit at you all, don't worry, haha. I think I just did...Gomenasai (So sorry)

About MY Dream vs. Reality: If you've read my sister's version...it's nothing like mine. I really can't think of any other way of describing it, haha, sorry.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 1<strong>

**My Dream**

_Four more games, four more games._ Tezuka Kiyoshi breathes in and out, keeping her eyes trained on the ball in her opponent's hand._ Come on, you're the Satana. You're Tezuka Kiyoshi._ She's about to lose the exact same way she lost two years ago. Helplessly. Quickly. _Badly._ It makes Kiyoshi sick to the stomach to lose to another person like that.

"Haa!" The other girl shouts as she hits the ball with such ferocity that Kiyoshi's racquet would have been blown apart if she returned the ball normally. The ball ricochets off the ground and meets the honey-blonde's waiting racquet. Kiyoshi tilts her racquet to lessen the power of the ball and flicks her wrist once the ball is at the other end of her silver racquet; a sliver of the ball touching the metal rim. Proudly, she says, "Mizu (Water)."

The ball meets the top of the net before dropping on the other side of the court without bouncing. Kiyoshi's opponent skids to a halt and starts making her way back to the baseline, not a hair out of place, not a shift of mood on her perfect features. This irks Kiyoshi, who feels like death.

"Love-15!"

_Don't lower your shoulders._ Kiyoshi readjusts her grip and waits for the next smash the other girl calls a serve.

Her opponent's back arches gracefully before she snaps back, like a rubber band. "Haa!"

Kiyoshi returns the ball in the same fashion, keeping her brother's motto in her mind as she carefully slices the ball. The ball falls down on the other side without bouncing and rolls to her opponent's feet slowly. She can feel her shoulders sag a little as the tension eases. _Yes, yes yesyes!_ She forces her expression neutral.

"Love-30!" The other girl just bends down and picks up the ball and retreats to the baseline to serve again.

Kiyoshi grounds her teeth together. While she's trying everything and hitting Mizu, Dojo (Earth), and Fuu (Air), the other girl barely bothers to look like she's trying. She's playing this game with the same sort of attitude Kiyoshi has for sitting through calculus. Bored. Wanting to get it over with. Waiting for the game to end with the obvious result. _Like I'm going to let you._ Yet Kiyoshi's letting her. Right now. Letting the other girl flatten her like a slab of dough.

"Haa!"

_Boom!_

"Love-40; match point!"

Her opponent scoffs. She bounces the ball a few times before serving again. "Haa!" She screams with the ferocity of a tiger's yowl.

This time, maybe because it is match point, the ball is harder and faster than usual. So it's no surprise when Kiyoshi's racquet gets blasted out of her hand. Her silver racquet skids by the concrete, damaging the metal rim and the silver paint on it. Kiyoshi winces as she picks up her racquet, (scraps her hand hard against the concrete,) and flips her racquet around slowly to check for damages. When she looks at her stinging fingers, her middle finger is welling with blood. She wipes the blood on her jersey without much thought.

"15-40,"

"Haa!"

_CATCH IT!_

_Boom! _Her flat shot sails past the net without being seen. "Fuu."

"Game, Tezuka, 3-5!" A dart of triumph flows through Kiyoshi. She only got 2 games off Osoreda Minako.

"Don't think I'm letting you win," The other girl warns, "I'm going to crush you to second place, I'll bet on it."

"No way," Kiyoshi grins, suddenly feeling invincible. Twirling her racquet and pointing it at her opponent she says, "Haven't you heard that quote? 'Second place is just the first place loser.'"

"That's the only thing you'll be in first place for." The other girl shoots back.

"6 games all, 7 points tiebreak!" The ref announces.

_Damn girl…_ Kiyoshi and her opponent wear identical wry smiles. When they see each other donning the same expression, Kiyoshi's eyes break out of their emotionless state for a split second; her eyes flash. The other girl snorts and turns away.

Kiyoshi's breathing comes fast and labored. Whenever she moves, it's as if she's under water; her lungs are on fire; her right arm is almost completely useless, it takes both hands on her racquet to return a normal shot. But, her opponent isn't looking much better. The other girl has sweat dripping down her body in streams and torrents; her loose and carefree grip has changed into a tight but shaky one; her breathing is becoming more and more ragged as Kiyoshi drags the match on. Her opponent wheezes in a breath as she awaits Kiyoshi's serve. Her sweaty bangs cling to her forehead like white on paper.

To Kiyoshi's pride and surprise, she managed to win three games in a row before her opponent cracked and started playing hard. The other girl had started hitting backhands laced heavily with topspin and drove volleys back twice as hard with triple the spin. She took the next game without much fight, because Kiyoshi's adrenaline was fading. The next game, Kiyoshi started smashing Dojo whenever her opponent was at the net, regardless to the type of shot she sent. She took that game after thirty minutes. How four points can take that long to earn, Kiyoshi doesn't know. Now, they're tie, and Kiyoshi is out of tricks. _I'm winning this game, even if I have to cheat._

Drawing in a breath, Kiyoshi raises her racquet and chucks the ball up with heavy topspin. She jumps up after it. _Bottom spin, topspin, bottom spin, SLICE! _She releases the ball. Does it work?

If the umpire saw her numerous hits on the ball, the point would have gone to her opponent, but by hitting Fuu a lot, her arm can move fast enough for four hits on the ball, but only the slice is seen. She's going to _win_, cheating or not.

Her opponent bends her knees and swipes at her soaked bangs, glaring miserably at the ball as it shoots towards her. But, the ball doesn't bounce normally. After first bounce, it bounces to the right, then to the left, before dribbling towards the net, all bounces low and short and sticking to the ground. Kiyoshi releases a breath. Whatever than shot was, it's damn _good. _

"1-0, Tezuka,"

Her opponent walks slowly to the net and scopes up the ball with her racquet. She doesn't want to bend down in fear of losing more of her stamina. The girl glares at Kiyoshi, her eyes full of hatred and admiration. Then, to everyone's surprise, she barks out a harsh laugh. "Tezuka, you got lucky," she comments, "going from 5-2 to a tiebreak." She dribbles the tennis ball like a basketball back to the baseline.

"A Demon Spawn doesn't rely on luck," Kiyoshi rasps, struggling to hold back the choking sound she knew was coming.

Without replying, her opponent serves again. "Haa!" A normal person's strength would have diminished by now, but, Kiyoshi learned (the hard way) that the girl she's playing right now is no normal person. She's equal to Kiyoshi, maybe even equal to her ex-captain and Osoreda.

_Boom! _Kiyoshi winces as she sends Fuu right to her opponent. Her expression changes for a split second, but that doesn't go unnoticed. A _tiny_ crack in her titanium armor, and her opponent drills the ball back. Kiyoshi cusses when her opponent's racquet connects with the ball through sheer luck.

"Hyaaa!" The ball skids by her.

"1 all!"

Kiyoshi repeats the four hit shot. God, she loves it. "2-1, Tezuka leads!"

"Haa!"

Kiyoshi slams her racquet into the ball, and then gives it a hard slice. The other girl deepens the slice before the ball bounces back to Kiyoshi. She quickly does a double slice. Two shots, but it looks like one. The ball bounces around crazily from her double slice. _Huh, so that works as well._ But the double slice has higher bounce than the spins then slice, and gives her opponent time to catch up to its random direction. The girl skids to a halt in front of it and swings her racquet with all her might. _I'm betting on this shot,_ her swing says.

"2 all!" The ball slams back into her court quickly. Kiyoshi, caught in the shock that she returned the shot, doesn't run after it.

Kiyoshi wipes her sweaty hands on her jersey before gripping her racquet again. Her lungs are definitely on fire, it feels like she's been running under the sun for two hours. Kiyoshi's vision starts going blurry; she stumbles before falling onto the ground with a hard thud. _Dammit, dammit, DAMMIT!_ Things like this aren't supposed to happen to her. She's Tezuka Kiyoshi, the _Satana._ She's the_ fricking_ Satana! _Dammit!_ When the black spots leave, she feels two new trails of sweat dripping down. She swipes at her eyes quickly. She isn't supposed to _cry_ because of a tennis match. She's not supposed to _fall_ down in the middle of a match. She's not supposed to be unable to stop her flow of _tears_. But she just sat there crying. Just like how she did two years ago.

_Get a grip, Kiyoshi. Stand up. Stop crying._

Kiyoshi stands up unsteadily, squeezing her eyes shut. _Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod. Stop. _Another tear leaks out. _Stop it! It's just a damned tennis game! _But Kiyoshi knows more than anyone else that it's not 'just a tennis game'. It's a game where everything you worked for, everything you believe in, is on the line. You either lose it all, or you win it all.

She tried so hard. So,_ so_ hard to win. But in the end, all that mattered was skill. She wasn't good enough to beat Osoreda. She wasn't good enough to win. She didn't work as hard, didn't have enough willpower. Simply put, she was just outclassed by the crazy girl. But...

_Is she Osoreda Minako? _

_No._

_Then why are you crying on the ground?_

_I'm not._

Throwing the ball up, Kiyoshi jumps up after it and slams her racquet into it. _I can't lose again. I will _not_ be outclassed again. _

_Boom!_

Fuu, as usual, is invisible and creates a loud smashing sound that echoes in the stadium. She purposely positions the ball at the edge of the singles line. The other girl doesn't even have time to blink before the ball drills into the short walls of the stadium._ Not Osoreda Minako. Not Osoreda Minako. Not Osoreda Minako._

"3-2, Tezuka leads!"

The other girl takes the next two points with a smash and her smash-like service. "4-3!"

"4 all!" Kiyoshi smashes Dojo.

"6-4!" Kiyoshi's opponent drops the ball at the front.

"9 all!" Fuu sails into the net.

"14-13!" Kiyoshi does a hard backhand down the singles line.

"21 all!" A volley bounces twice before Kiyoshi gets to it.

_Sometimes, games like this makes me love-hate tennis. _Kiyoshi drags in a wheezing breath. Her arms hurt. They hurt so_ damn much_. But, she just pushes down the pain mechanically and hits the ball over and over again. Because that's what Suzuna-buchou would have done. Because that's what Himawari-senpai would have done. _Because that's what her brother would have done. _

One look at her opponent's eyes, she can see the other girl's feverish want for the win. The other girl flashes a tired smile. She might not be able to see anything in Kiyoshi's eyes, but she knows. Oh, she _knows._ Neither of them wants the second place many strive for. Neither of them wants to stare at the flag in the other's hand while clenching the silver plaque tightly with their team mates behind them patting them on the shoulder.

Saying things like, _"You did well."_

_"She was crazy, no one can beat her."_

(Kiyoshi hated it the first time. She's not going to endure it a second time.)

Kiyoshi squeezes her eyes tightly shut. She doesn't want second place. She wants to win. She wants to raise the flag high and scream on the top of her lungs. She wants to mount the trophy on the locker room's side with her team mates and see it every time she goes to practice. She wants to see that proud but begrudging expression on her brother's face when she teasingly waves it in front of his face. She wants to show the flag to Watanabe Suzuna-buchou and Mori Himawari-senpai and watch as her senpai and ex-captain gasp in wonder at the sight of her trophy. She _needs_ to win. She needs to win so much it _hurts_. It hurts so _bad_. It hurts like fricking _hell._ So when she sends the ball flying towards her opponent's face, she doesn't feel the slightest bit of remorse. She watches with emotionless eyes as the other girl bats the ball up by accident. The two girls lock eyes one more time, a look of sheer terror crosses the other girl's eyes for a split second. Kiyoshi mouths a word to her before looking up at the ball._ Sayonara (Goodbye)._

Time seems to slow down for Kiyoshi. She can hear her heart beating, threatening to break free from her ribcage. She can hear the sharp inhale of her opponent. Her eyes close. _Go_. She takes off as her eyes open, spring from the ground like a bouncy ball smashed deep into the earth. In that miniscule pinch of a second, she's _flying._

(Like a bird, like a phoenix. Higher and higher until she touches the sky.)

Then, reality smacks her in the face and the ball is right in front of her. She draws her racquet back. Her racquet meets the ball high above her head and brings it down on the court.

The ball smashes into the court, and stays drilled for five seconds before giving a tiny bounce. "Dojo," Kiyoshi lands on the ground with a_ splat. _The cheering crowd almost drowns out her word.

"Game, Tezuka Kiyoshi, 7-6! With the score of 3-2, St. Rudolph wins the nationals!" The chair judge yells. His voice is barely audible, but to Kiyoshi, it feels like a shout straight into her ear. The sound waves vibrating through her entire body.

"Kiyoshi, _Kiyoshi_, **_KIYOSHI_**!" Cheers bounce off the stadium walls and straight into her ears. Kiyoshi's lips twitch, forming a small smile. Her limbs tingling with fatigue and delirium. But, why is everyone calling her by her first name? It's doubtful that all of them know that-

(A wave of coldness washes over her, drowning all her thoughts.)

Kiyoshi's upper body reels up, hugging her body tightly as she glares at her brother through blurry eyes.

"Kiyoshi-" Tezuka Kunimitsu breaks off as Kiyoshi's upper body shoots up like a rocket.

"Kunimitsu!" She complains. Because calling him by his first name has always made him uncomfortable. Sure enough, he twitched. "Why are you up so early?" She can't help but grin stupidly as his twitch. It makes his frown deepen.

"It's six, you have to go to school," Tezuka reasons, dropping her comforter on the edge of her bed with a cough. Kiyoshi's smile fades, a slightly confused expression on her face. _Oh yeah, school._ "I have tennis practice, I have to leave early."

The words 'tennis practice' strikes a hollowness in Kiyoshi. Like a church bell. Hard and ringing with sound waves. Only God knows how much those two words mean to her.

"I won at the nationals," Kiyoshi blurts. Dream or not, she_ won_. Even though she's not sure what she won, it feels good not to...well, lose.

"Don't let your guard down." The words leave Tezuka's mouth almost methodically.

"I beat this random girl with my old style, the one where I just hit my special moves," instead of retaliating, Kiyoshi ignores her brother. "She reminded me of Osoreda." Kiyoshi smiles ruefully. Tezuka blinks, carefully keeping his eyes blank.

He had been there when his sister dashed all over the place, missing each shot by a millimeter. He had been there when every single one of Kiyoshi's special shot got returned, as if the wicked shots have been nothing more than weak lobs. He had been there when she missed the last shot by a fraction, her silver rimmed racquet had grazed the edge of the ball ever so slightly. He had been there when she cried. When she cried for herself. When she cried for her team. When she cried for the championship she was no longer able to get.

"I get it," Tezuka nods once.

_No. No, you don't._

* * *

><p>Author's Note: Just to clarify, the last sentence is Tezuka's thoughts. English isn't my first language, so don't hesitate to tell me if there are grammar mistakes, 'kay? Also, please leave a comment, I'll give you a muffin~<p>

P.S. Sis, you're welcome. You have no idea how long it took me to navigate through , it's like they built this site just to make fun of 'technoogically challenged' people like me. (Happy (waaaaaaaaaay) belated b-day! I love you 2, hehe)


End file.
